


Whiskey and Mirrors

by shopfront



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Mirror Universe, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopfront/pseuds/shopfront
Summary: Ezri Tigan tries a little more universe hopping in service of the rebellion, but a technical malfunction derails her plans when it sends her spinning back in time.





	Whiskey and Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weakinteraction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/gifts).



> Violence warning is for some brief fighting in the mirror universe in the beginning, including potential/implied the quick death of an Alliance Klingon.
> 
> Thank you to Sasha and L for the beta.

Ezri’s day started with a bad feeling and the strong desire to shoot something, or at least threaten some unsuspecting bystander.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long before she was presented with an opportunity or two to do so. First she and Leeta overslept, only to be startled awake when the base came under sudden and heavy fire. Then by the time they found their way to Julian and Smiley, there were wounded fighters from both sides everywhere and lots of shouting. Mostly from Julian. If they weren’t allies now, she’d be really tempted to pull a phaser on him periodically just to get some peace and quiet.

Instead, she pulled it anyway and plunged into the fray.

“We need more supplies,” Smiley yelled across a corridor some time later, and then kept on yelling despite his words being drowned out by the sounds of battle. He didn’t even pause when a Klingon came roaring down the corridor, only to collapse from a direct hit by Ezri’s phaser to his head.

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Ezri tried to yell back. Then she rolled her eyes and laid down heavy fire so she could dash from the cover of one bulkhead to another to get within hearing range and repeat herself.

“The transport pad is still set to cross universes,” Smiley yelled, at only a slightly lower volume this time with the occasional pause to lean back out into the corridor and shoot. “We never had time to fix it after your little friends left.”

“And?” Ezri asked, brow furrowed.

“And? What do you mean and? We running short on supplies,” he snapped, still shooting, before groaning and banging his phaser against the wall when it made a whining noise and refused to fire. “Most especially, working firearms!”

Ezri glared. “You want me to go fetch phasers from an alternate reality. Bit of a complicated trip just for weapons, don’t you think?”

“Not really, we have plenty of power right now to send you back and forth but we won’t be able to hold off the Klingon reinforcements the Alliance keeps sending for too much longer without more phasers. Or more something, at any rate. I’m not really in the mood to be picky. Anything that goes boom would be useful.”

“Fine,” Ezri huffed. “Though I don’t know how effective I’m going to be at getting something for nothing if you really don’t want me strong-arming people anymore.”

“Just get them,” Smiley said shortly. “Try not to get on Sisko’s bad side if you can avoid it, but do what you have to do.”

“Whatever. Cover me,” she said, and then set off abruptly at a run in the direction of the cargo bay while Smiley cursed soundly behind her.

*

Ezri re-materialised with a yelp, then leapt quickly off the transport pad and ducked behind a cargo box. The pad in question sparked ominously behind her and began belching smoke at an alarming rate.

“Wonderful,” she sighed. “That’s just wonderful.”

Immediately as soon as she stopped speaking, an alarm started to sound. An automated voice came over the speakers announcing an air quality problem and asking everyone to please evacuate the cargo bay.

Ezri shot the nearest speaker with her phaser twice until the voice wound down into static, and then stomped toward the bay doors.

*

“Quark!” Ezri threw herself down at the bar and glared. “Something’s wrong in your cargo bay over here, I need you and Rom to help me fix it. Sooner rather than later, I’m on something of a deadline.”

“I’m… sure I don’t know what you mean,” Quark said slowly, looking her up and down and leaning close to leer at her. “We don’t have our own cargo bay, and I’m not sure what my brother could do to help you with fixing one…. But if a cargo bay is what you’re looking for, I’m sure I can arrange a short term loan of someone else’s for you. For a fee of course.”

“Quark, it’s me.”

Quark just tilted his head at her, smiling harder. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m sure I’d remember someone as lovely as you. If the fee is the problem, perhaps we could come to some other arrangement?”

Ezri grimaced. “I’m pretty sure we’ve had that conversation before, Quark. Stop acting like you don’t recognise me. I know you know _both_ of me.”

Quark’s ears practically perked up, making Ezri grimace harder and also lean back just a fraction. “Both of you? I wasn’t aware Trills were into cloning. Or perhaps you have a sister… like I said, I’m sure we could come to an _arrangement_ if you’re running a little low on latinum.”

“Oh, forget it,” Ezri huffed, waving him off and turning towards the other end of the bar. “Rom!”

Quark made a startled noise, but Ezri ignored him.

“Rom, I need you to fix a transporter for me,” Ezri said urgently once he’d bounded over to join them. He looked puzzled, so she grabbed him by the chin and forced him to keep his eyes on her when he tried to turn away from her and towards Quark. The same Quark who was rather vigorously trying to motion him away without being obvious about it. “Rom, focus.”

“Uhhh,” Rom said, eyes still darting toward Quark and back again. “Um. I- I don’t, ahh, know anything about fixing transporters. But I could fix your replicator for you! If it’s also broken, um-“

“What my idiot brother is trying to say,” Quark broke in, giving up all pretence of subtlety and attempting to shove Rom out of Ezri’s grip, “is that I’m sure I would be of much more help in finding you whatever you need. _Wouldn’t I, Rom?_ ”

“What do you mean you don’t know anything about transporters?” Ezri asked, bewildered.

“Yes, yes you would be more help,” Rom agreed, finally pulling himself free and hurriedly backing away. “My brother is very good at many things. I’ll just, uhh, go over here now, brother.”

“Oh no,” Ezri murmured. “The sparks-“

“As I was saying-“

Ezri grabbed Quark by the front of his jacket and lifted him onto his toes, making him yelp. “You really don’t know me, Ferengi?”

“No! No, we’ve never met, I swear!”

Ezri stared at him in silence for a long moment, ignoring him when he kicked his feet and wiggled against her grip.

“Hello,” came a cheery voice from behind Ezri. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. It’s not all that often I see another Trill on the station.”

Still silent, Ezri turned her head towards the voice. A friendly looking woman was smiling down at her, dressed in something gauzy with her hair tied back off her face and very clearly displaying her spots.

“Perhaps I might be able to persuade you to unhand my friend there?” The woman continued, still all smiles, and held up a bottle and a half-empty glass of dark liquid. “I know he’s a little difficult sometimes, but he means well. There’s a bottle of real Earth made whiskey behind the bar that I could share while you consider whether he’s really worth all this trouble…?”

Ezri dropped Quark, who quickly scurried off only be called back to reluctantly fetch another glass and fill them.

“He’s not who I thought he was, anyway,” Ezri said dismissively, watching him leave with a frown before turning towards the woman with a considering look.

“My name’s Jadzia Dax,” the woman offered, settling at the bar while still smiling for no reason Ezri could fathom. She’d secured Quark’s release already, after all.

“Dax…,” Ezri started, then stopped herself.

“Yes?” Jadzia asked, pausing with her drink lifted halfway to her lips.

“Nothing. I just. For a moment your name reminded me of someone I’d heard of,” _-who had my face, not yours_ , Ezri thought to herself.

“Oh! One of my previous hosts, perhaps?” Jadzia said, putting her drink down and leaning forward curiously. “I was only recently joined, myself. Perhaps your friend knew me as Curzon Dax?”

“I don’t think so,” Ezri said, trying to hold back a grimace. “It was probably just a similar name.”

Jadzia tilted her head and watched Ezri closely until Ezri looked away on the pretence of surveying the slowly filling bar.

“Is it usually this quiet?”

“Most of the Starfleet personnel are still on shift,” Jadzia said, still watching Ezri unnervingly closely. “You know, I never caught your name.”

“Starfleet. Right.”

“You’re a little jumpy for a Trill,” Jadzia observed wryly.

“And you’re a little blunt,” Ezri said sharply, clenching her jaw and meeting Jadzia’s eyes again straight on. But Jadzia just smiled, and Ezri found herself softening despite herself. “Ezri Tigan,” she offered grudgingly.

“Relax, Ezri Tigan” Jadzia said. “I’m just curious. It’s the Emony in me.”

Ezri wrinkled her brow. “Emony was….”

“A previous host? Yes,” Jadzia answered with a tinkling laugh. “Why do I get the feeling you’re a little uncomfortable with symbionts?”

Ezri shrugged one shoulder.

“Which is also a little unusual for a Trill.”

“I grew up… off world,” Ezri said slowly. “Never knew someone who had one, so it’s never been of much interest to me. I never saw the benefit to it.”

“That’s fascinating,” Jadzia said, her eyes lighting up in a way that made Ezri want to lean back or maybe reach for her phaser to put a halt to personal questions. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Trill who wasn’t interested in at least trying for symbiosis. Shall we sit down and have a proper drink while you tell me all about it?”

Ezri hesitated, considering her options. She could make a break for it, but she had no way of knowing yet what this Dax’s real purpose was in questioning her and whether someone would try to stop her. Without a working transporter unit in the same position as one hooked up with the right technology back home, she was stuck, and it was the wrong time of day to try and give anyone the slip.

Besides, it wasn’t like there was a rush to get back to the battlefront now. She had, quite literally, more time than she could guess at.

“Why not,” she said.

Jadzia just smiled.

*

“You’re cute,” Jadzia said with a smirk some time later, idly trailing a finger around the rim her glass “Perhaps you’d like to get dinner with me?”

Ezri laughed and leaned in with an answering smirk. “Like a date? I suppose I don’t have anything more pressing to do. But you don’t even know if I’m seeing someone.”

“Are you seeing someone?” Jadzia asked with exaggerated curiosity, eyes wide and lips twitching.

“Nothing serious. Not yet, anyway.”

“I’m quite a fan of nothing serious, myself.”

“Are you now?” Ezri asks, raising an eyebrow while Jadzia just made an agreeable noise and bit her lower lip. “Must be my lucky day then.”

“Why do I have a feeling you get quite a few of those?”

“I can’t complain,” Ezri said with a shrug.

“You know, I do have a much nicer bottle of this in my quarters if dinner doesn’t appeal to you. Quark’s a good friend, but he’s also a Ferengi and even his friends get their real alcohol watered down.”

Ezri snorted. “Why does that not surprise me.”

“You talk like you know him,” Jadzia observed, casting a look across the room at Quark, who diverted from his path to walk toward them at Jadzia’s attention. “More than someone would if they only wanted to try and rough him up after a deal gone south, that is.”

“You could say I met someone rather like him once,” Ezri said. “Now, about that bottle….”

Jadzia tossed back the last of her drink and stood up with a wink. “My quarters are right this way,” she said, holding out a beckoning hand that Ezri took with her first unreserved smile of the evening.


End file.
